


Not Going Anywhere

by pixie_rings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Galra!Keith, M/M, alien keith, genderfluid pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:37:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7403023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixie_rings/pseuds/pixie_rings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming to terms with many different things, all at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Going Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Woo, my first fanfic for this fandom! You get some Galra!Keith, the Power of Friendship™ and Lance actually acting like a Mature Adult, who’d ever have guessed it?
> 
> EDIT: NOW WITH [AMAZING FANART](https://catnippackets.tumblr.com/post/146980290265/i-doodled-some-things-from-materassassino-s-fic) from [Catnippackets](https://catnippackets.tumblr.com) who is a GODDAMN ANGEL.

It's Pidge that first mentions it, piping up about something none of them have had the courage to voice yet.

“He's not coming out, is he?”

The silence that follows that statement is uncomfortable, nervous, thick and uncertain. It clings to their skin and seems to bring out their darker, unbidden thoughts, the ones they don't want: fear of betrayal, fear of the unknown, of the future, of...

Of one of their own.

They each have their own demons right now, the dark, nasty parts of them that bubble up, unwanted, unlooked for, the parts that aren't who they are as people, but who they were when instinct still ruled the human race. And instinct tells them not to trust the alien that had been hiding in plain sight.

Shiro is disgusted with himself, for taking a step back instead of one forward. Hunk is worried, both for the team and for his friend, and for the foundations of their friendship. Pidge is running a hundred different scenarios through their head, analysing each one, trying to figure out whether they could have seen this come. Allura is quiet, eyes wide, still in shock, disbelieving that one of the enemy of her people was inside her own castle. Coran sees someone like those who took his king, his people and his planet from him, and left him with nothing. And Lance... Well, no one can read him right now.

One thing they all have in common, however: these thoughts that see Keith and think “one of them” are not who they are as people.

Shiro takes a deep breath. He knows it's his duty to do this, as leader. He needs to step up and take control of the situation, go into the room and do this. He stands up, weight heavy on his mismatched hands on the table, pauses slightly to gather himself.

“I'll -” He stops before his sentence can even start. Lance is across the room and out the door before he can say anything. Alarm bells ring, for everyone in the room. Lance is possibly the worst person to take charge in this situation, they know what he's like with Keith. The equilibrium of the team, the friendship between them, and even Voltron and the future of the galaxy itself are at stake here.

“You all wait here,” Shiro says, marching after Lance like a man on a mission.

Lance, meanwhile, has made it to Keith's room. It's locked, but his handprint's been a key for a while now.

It's dark inside Keith's room, the light from the corridor spilling in around Lance's feet, offering a strip of visibility. He closes the door behind him. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom, but then Lance sees him.

Keith it sitting in the corner, on the floor, arms wrapped tight around his knees. He looks so small and afraid, so childlike. His head is bowed, Lance can't see his face.

Usually, Lance would be angry. Usually, Lance would goad a response, pick and pick and pick until Keith lashes back, because that's how they function. It's the easiest way to hide what's been brewing between them, so simple and routine and it's worked for them so far, but... he can't do that now. He can't get a rise, he can't taunt. He needs to be mature about this, face this burgeoning whatever-they-have head-on like an adult and also face the music.

“Hey,” he murmurs, stuffing his hands in his pockets to give them something to do other than clench into fists. Keith doesn't stir. It might not be an invitation, but it's not a refusal, either, so Lance sits down next to Keith, back against the cool metal wall, legs crossed. He can wait.

Keith stiffens. He shies away ever-so-slightly, trying to melt into his corner, and it's painful to see. Lance doesn't move, keeps his body as neutral as possible.

“I'm here,” he says, hoping to get across what he means in those three syllables. He's there, he's not going anywhere, it doesn't matter what Keith is or isn't, he's in it for the long haul.

Lance sits there, just letting Keith know his words are true, and they're quiet for what seems like an eternity. Freeing his mind of the thoughts chasing themselves around it isn't easy, but he attempts it, going to his happy place with the white sand and the crystalline waters and the pleasant, smooth rustle of palm trees in a warm sea breeze. It's amazing how far he can wander without moving and how much he can see while just staring at the opposite wall, but it passes the time and shuts down his brain, which is a welcome change. Back with the others, the atmosphere hadn't allowed his mind any respite at all.

He sees Keith move from the corner of his eye, and looks. Keith's eye is on him, and it glows yellow in the darkness, no pupil visible. His skin is darker now, and while Lance can't discern it, he knows it's purple.

“Why are you here?” he demands, his voice dry.

Lance's first instinct is to bristle, bite back, because it's obvious from Keith's waspish tone he's trying to get Lance to snap. Lance reins it in, observes the whole situation: Keith's body is still defensive, still fearful, as if he thinks rejection is going to come at any minute; his voice may have been vicious, but Lance can sense something else there, something brittle and afraid.

“Because you need to know you're not alone right now,” Lance replies. Keith's eye widens.

If this were any other moment, Lance would be shocked at what happens next, but right now, he isn't. He welcomes it, even.

Keith lunges at him, wrapping his arms around Lance's chest. He buries his face in Lance's neck, trembles against him. Claws dig slightly into Lance's back, not threatening, but present. Lance curls himself around Keith, feeling oddly defensive, like he could punch the universe if Keith asked him to.

“I don't want this,” Keith rasps. “This isn't me.”

“I know, I know,” Lance whispers, fingers in Keith's hair, other hand rubbing his back gently. He can hear small sobs, muffled in his skin. Lance swallows. He's never seen Keith so vulnerable before, so raw and open. Once upon another solar system, Lance might have taken advantage of this, twisted this trust and used it as a weapon. The thought of it, of what he could do, of what he might have wanted to do, makes him sick. Keith doesn't deserve his bullshit.

What he does deserve, though, is the good parts of him, the trusting and trustworthy parts, the parts that make him a Paladin. And those are what he offers in that embrace. He's strong and adaptable, like water. He can do this for the both of them.

“It doesn't matter to me, ok?” Lance mutters, to himself as much as to Keith, because he needs to hear himself say it, make it real. “It doesn't matter, I'm still here, you're still you, the outside doesn't matter. We're gonna do this together, you hear me? I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.”

Keith goes almost limp against him with a slightly louder, much more broken sob.

Much later, Keith is quiet. Lance's arms are loose around him, his chin resting on Keith's head, his nose not even an inch away from what's now an ear. _Kitty ear,_ he thinks absently, the corner of his mouth twitching before he can help it.

There's a knock on the door. Keith stiffens, Lance's hold tightens.

“It's me.” Shiro's voice is muffled, but also soft, reassuring, and Lance feels somewhat relieved. Shiro's mere existence is somehow comfort. Keith isn't seeing it that way, though.

“Can we talk?” Shiro asks, still gentle, understanding.

“Can I let him in?” Lance asks.

“No,” Keith says, quickly. “I need... more time.”

“Ok,” Lance replies easily. Keith can take all the time he needs.

* * *

Shiro's back aches, as does his ass. He doesn't know how long he's been sitting there, but he'll wait there for as long as it takes. He can't get in, and asking Allura or Coran for an override would be the most disrespectful thing he can imagine. Keith doesn't need his privacy violated.

He's staring at the wall, counting minutes in his head, when Allura comes around the corner.

“We haven't found Lance anywhere,” she says, looking pointedly at Keith's door, because there's nowhere else he could be. Shiro had started suspecting something a while ago, but now he's certain.

“I haven't heard any arguing,” he says, “so I think they're ok.”

To his surprise, Allura tucks her skirt in and slides down to sit beside him. “I do hope he's all right,” she murmurs, and that's not the tone of a Princess concerned for her Paladin, it's the tone of a girl worried for her friend. Shiro smiles gently.

“He'll be ok,” he replies. “We'll all be ok.”

She offers him a tiny smile back.

* * *

Once Allura leaves, Shiro is left alone. He's prepared to sit out there all night, maybe ask someone for a blanket, but with a soft hum the door opens. He stands up immediately, stiff though his joints may be. He notices, with the barest downward glance, that his suspicions were correct after all.

“Shiro...” Keith begins. He looks very different, but also exactly the same. Shiro smiles, raises his flesh-and-blood arm, places his hand on Keith's shoulder.

“I'm proud of you,” he says. Keith drops his gaze, takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“I'm... Where are the others?” he asks.

“They should be in the dining hall,” Shiro says. “Do you feel up to it?”

Keith looks up, looks at Shiro, looks at Lance. Lance offers an encouraging smile. Keith takes another deep breath.

“Yes, I'm ready.”

* * *

When Keith walks in, he's the centre of attention. Pidge and Hunk are the first there. Hunk pulls him into a hug, big enough to lift Keith clean off the ground.

“You're my buddy, ok? We're friends. Don't think we're not friends.” He sets Keith down, holding him at arm's length, his expression full of the utmost sincerity.

Pidge is next. They shift awkwardly before throwing their arms around Keith. “You're ok with me, I'm ok with you. We've been through too much to change that.”

Keith nods, jerkily, and Pidge seems relieved.

Over by the table stand Coran and Allura. Lance feels Keith's fingers tighten where he still hasn't let go of his hand, and Lance knows that this is what worried him most. Allura steps forward, looking decidedly regal, head held high, expression proud, carrying the weight of her entire lost people.

“You are,” she begins, in her royal voice, “the Paladin of the Red Lion. You are a Defender of the Universe...” Her face breaks. She wilts slightly, the Princess of Altea gone and replaced by just Allura. “You are my friend, Keith. This changes nothing.”

To Keith's shock, she pulls him into another hug. Lance thinks he's had more today than in the entire rest of his life.

“I don't have a fancy speech ready,” Coran admits once Allura has pulled away. “But I've known you long enough to know I have faith in you.”

And there's another hug. Keith looks shocked enough that Lance has to chuckle.

“Um, guys, I don't want to be the one to change the subject here, but, uh...” Hunk points to where Keith and Lance's hands are very obviously still tightly laced together. “That's a thing.”

“Yeah, it's a thing,” Lance admits breezily. Allura giggles.

“Hopefully this means you'll be sniping at each other less,” Pidge says, folding their arms. Lance snorts.

“Please, that's practically foreplay -”

“Lance,” Shiro warns, his Disapproving Commander face on. Hunk gags, Pidge groans, Allura breaks into a complete giggle fit, attempting to stifle it with her hand. Everything is... ok. Ok is good. Ok is wonderful.

* * *

“Do you always have to be so inappropriate?” Keith asks a little later.

The lounge has a window, an immense window. Usually the radiation shield is down, but it can be raised once in a while, to view the stars. The vast magnificence of space never really gets boring.

“Ah, you love it, really,” Lance teases with a smirk. Keith rolls his eyes. The moment lulls, until Keith speaks again.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Lance takes a moment to savour those words – not gloatingly, but as someone who deserves them.

“Like I said,” he says, “I'm not going anywhere.”


End file.
